Today I thought I’d seen your face
at the bustop, just behind me,
outside where we spent the days together.

You were like a silver coin
unblemished in the setting sun
the peak of your youth in wane
did you know it then?
Glinting nobly, the right side up -
your squint searched for something in the light
I hope you found what you were looking for.

But sunken in archetypal cliches
which you were supposed to defy,
pleasure palls. Money can’t buy
I know you’d trade up anything but it’s a
pity happiness
You sink with currency,
fade into a deadpan face
on crumpled paper notes